On a lazy Sunday afternoon, I had all the time in the world to sit and contemplate what my mistakes are.
Over-think, I do.
Punish myself more than anyone else ever could, I do.
Find answers, I often do.
Today's over-analysis involved trying to understand how giving too much and living for someone else and not yourself could possibly be a bad thing. No matter how progressive the society we live in, women are told to live for their husbands or their careers or their children or all three at once. One thing I know we are not openly encouraged to do is to live for ourselves.
There is a haunting pain that shadows me daily. Some moments are blocked by distraction or entertainment. Some days I punch a volleyball so hard in the hope that I will tire it out and it will recede. Nah, it doesn't.
It is impossible you see, to run from yourself. When it is your existence that causes you to ache then continuing to exist means learning to harness that hum and use it for something else. For me, that is creativity. Slapping paint on a canvas and over some of the floor. Drawing a character that escapes my imagination and filling in outside the lines. Writing a morbid tale of reflective inner sadness is my way of putting it outside myself. Saying to that pain, if you are going to stay around then at least be useful in some way.
As far as I can see, me and my pain are on this journey together. One day we may part ways but while we are here there has to be some way to live with each other.
Unlike my failed marriage, one of us can not run away and think only of ourselves. Unlike my past broken friendships, one of us will not walk out and tell the other that they can't be bothered by them anymore. Unlike leaving a job you agonise about attending when you roll over in the morning, there is no peaceful resignation.
Life gives you one of those suck-it-up moments. Tame the beast or allow it to break you. Trust me, if I didn't allow that monster of a husband to break me then I'm sure not letting some negative thought tear me limb from limb.
You guys have to let me write my suicidal fiction and paint my horned demons without fret. Let me explore the darkness in search of the light. Support me if I fall and celebrate me when I don't.
I know it is only because you love me. I love you dearly too. You are my foundation. My family and friends. I will be ok but I will do it my way. That is Damana.
2 comments:
Just wanted to let you know that I always read your blog entries. I feel that although we are going through different experiences I find many of your words still resonate with me. Keep writing.
I read your blog posts everyday and I admire you. You are an amazing young woman with many talents. Talents which many of us aspire to become and work ever so hard to get there. You have it so keep at it, keep writing, keep painting and keep all of what you do going.
I think you are living for yourself now, your expression of 'monster of a husband' tells me so. I'd say, express more of these sort of your emotions.
aya Georgina
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